


A Portrait of a Prince (Is Worth a Thousand Words)

by maccabird_23



Series: King Armie and Prince Consort Timothee [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistaken Identity, no one asked for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 03:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15743487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maccabird_23/pseuds/maccabird_23
Summary: Armie knew that a portrait didn’t always capture the true nature of its subject, but he really had to stretch his imagination when comparing the Prince Harry that stood in front of him to the picture King Robert had sent to him.A special Thank You to Beth for Beta-Editing 6k over one night. Truly, a magic worker! Couldn't have done this without you.





	A Portrait of a Prince (Is Worth a Thousand Words)

 

Armie knew that a portrait didn’t always capture the true nature of its subject, but he really had to stretch his imagination when comparing the Prince Harry that stood in front of him to the picture King Robert had sent to him.

Vibrant, bright green eyes were replaced by murky hazel, and full ruddy cheeks were replaced by a thin, pale face. He was still handsome, which was a relief. Prince Harry was known for his beautiful brown curls,  but no one had ever told King Armie what beautiful full lips he had.

“My prince…” Armie tried to take his hand, touch it with his mouth, but the boy before him had a mousy way about him, dipping and quaking, kneeling at Armie’s feet like a scared animal.

“Excuse our prince, your Highness.” His girl servant hurried, picking him up like she was working a puppet without strings. “The trip was quite arduous on his constitution.”

Armie narrowed his eyes, taking in the scene and feeling a slight tic of mistrust. “Well, then let us take him to his rooms. We wouldn’t want Prince Harry to expire before us.” He was glad that their party had come so late into the night, hours after he had expected them.

He wouldn’t wish for his court to see his future Prince Consort in such a… state. It also gave him time to do his own investigating. If his cousin, King Robert of France, had given him damaged goods, there would most definitely be hell to pay.

“Leave it to Robert to break a Treaty of Good Faith. I give up the south of France, my birthright, and in return, he agrees to the marriage between me and his most beautiful sibling, Prince Harry.” Armie was ranting, pacing around Henry’s bedchambers. He felt slightly bad waking up his pregnant brother this late at night, but who else could he turn to at that moment? “He is either very sick or already pregnant…”

“Or both,” Henry interjected, raising an eyebrow at his brother while spitting bile into a chamber pot. “Calm down Armie or you’ll worry yourself into an early grave like Father.”

“Do you remember, brother what Robert sent me after I requested my rightful inheritance of French land? Do you remember what was in the box he sent me?” Armie was trying really hard to even his temper, but he was boiling. There was only so much disrespect the King of England could tolerate.

“He gave you a treasure box full of seashells and sand… told you  _ here is your inheritance Prince Armie.”  _  Henry sighed; he and Armie had certainly garnered a… reputation in their younger years for their love of partying. It took its toll on their character or how people thought of their character.

_ Drinking and whoring _

_ Royal legs spread wide _

_ Well into Morning _

_ And all through the Night _

“This would be the ultimate insult. Sending me an invalid or a whore to marry.” Armie regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but his ire was making him erratic. He watched as his older brother winced. It had been an insult thrown at both of them but when your worth depended solely on your purity, the curse meant a whole lot more. “I will wake the doctor and a bishop to oversee a full health and virtue check.”

Armie waited, watching his brother fully realize how serious he was. Its what made him a good king where his father had floundered. When Armie made up his mind,  it was damn near impossible to change it. “I guess you want my help.”

“Prince Harry… he has a little girl servant. Esther. They seemed close. Offer her the world in return for the prince’s deepest secrets.”

Henry was able to talk his brother down until he agreed to wait until the morning. Waking the Prince of France in the middle of the night so a doctor and priest could prod and pull at his most intimates was surely grounds for war.  Henry could attest it was one of the most brutish things that ever happened to him.

The next morning, Henry caught Esther while she was on her way to the kitchens, nearly scaring her until she saw his big belly. “Do you need help, Your Grace?” She asked with a tiny curtsey.

Henry smiled, a plot forming as he spoke, “Yes. I am feeling faint. Can you escort me to my rooms?” Once they were in his private quarters, he asked her to close the doors and pull a small but heavy box from a side drawer. “Bring it here. To the bed.”

He opened it, revealing gold and jewels. Some of them were gifts from his first husband, the King of Norway, before their marriage and his subsequent death. He watched Esther’s eyes glow at their magnificence. Sadly, he hadn’t been able to keep his royal jewels. Those were passed down to his stepson’s queen.  

“I cannot wear these any longer. My husband, Lord Jason hates when I wear jewels from my first marriage. Probably because they are more expensive than anything he could gift me… Would you like to have them?”

“Why would you give them to me, my Lord?” The girl servant might have been young, but there was cunning behind her eyes, maybe even fear. Both would get her far.

“As thanks for helping me to my rooms… and helping me with something else.” Henry took her gently by the wrist, folding a beautiful necklace into her palm before closing her fingers over it. “My brother, King Armie is a kind man but he does not suffer fools. He noticed there is something…off about Prince Harry.”

Esther hesitated. “Hal?”

“Is that a nickname?”

“When we were young, I used to call him Hal. I could not pronounce his whole name… I was too young,”  she said with a smile.

Henry chose his words carefully. The girl seemed close to the prince. Maybe they were even friends. “Do you know of Armie’s great-grandfather?” The girl nodded. “He passed a law during his reign that if any of his wives were not forthcoming with their past indiscretions before marriage, he could have them imprisoned… and even executed.”

Esther sucked in a breath, face lining with worry. “Hal has never… he has no indiscretions. He stands innocent before God and King Armie.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. The girl was definitely smarter than he gave her credit for. “There is no man nor woman that would testify otherwise?  No one that would confess under torture that they lay with your prince?”

She met his eyes this time, unheard of for a servant when addressing a noble, let alone a Prince of England. “No one would testify to that unless they were a liar or a fraud.”

Henry nodded, feeling the ice in her voice or maybe it was fire. “Keep the jewels. Your words are worth more than them anyway.” He watched the girl scurry out, wondering what his brother’s side of the  _ investigation  _ had yielded.

“He’s thin but healthy. Strong heartbeat, no scars or signs of illness… He needs to eat more. He can most definitely bear you a child to term, but I would suggest he gain at least twenty pounds before doing so,” Armie’s private physician, Sir Leo said briskly, closing up his leather-bound case of sharp instruments.

Armie waited a moment longer until the head of his Clergy, Bishop Fincher entered the room, closing the door behind him, to ask, “And what of his innocence… is it intact?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, the Bishop coughing at his bluntness. Armie scoffed, waving his hand for them to get on with it. “I will write out a full report for you to read later but yes… He is without fault.” The Bishop finished.  

“What does that mean?” Armie asked, exasperated.

“Your Highness, when asked what his duties would be as Prince Consort he answered,  _ To lay with my husband and kiss him each night until I am with child.  _ Your future husband has no idea how to consummate his marriage,” Sir Leo said, almost amused but also worried. “He is most certainly in for a surprise.”

Armie spent the rest of the day avoiding his future husband while simultaneously thinking of nothing but him. He interrupted his brother-in-law, Lord Jason,  while he was being fitted for the upcoming wedding. Armie froze; it was only two days away.

Jason sighed, sending the tailor away. “You kept Henry up all night. You know your court loves to gossip.  _ Are the Royal Brothers up to their old games? _  If I was a lesser man…”

“But you’re not. That’s why my brother chose you. Armie interrupted, spreading himself across a chair and pouring some wine. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Is this about the little prince you’ve been hiding away?’ Jason asked, taking Armie’s cup of wine and downing it.

“Yes. No. I haven’t been hiding him. He needs his rest. The trip took a lot out of him.”

“Your noblemen and women have been buzzing all day. They can’t wait to see their future Prince Consort at the banquet tonight.” Jason narrowed his eyes, watching as his longtime friend grimaced at his words. “Or maybe you do not wish for them to see him… Is there something wrong? Is he ugly? Or worse, skinny?”

“Oh, shut up.” Armie cracked, smiling along with his friend as he covered his face, pushing the pads of his fingers into his eye sockets to relieve some stress. “He is quite thin but nothing plenty of food won’t cure, but he is quite beautiful. Most definitely the Jewel of France we were promised.”

‘Then why do you frown, Armie?” Jason poured him another drink. Armie took it without hesitation. 

“That was my question. I believe I might have scared him unknowingly. Am I frightening, Jason?”

Jason paused; he’d known Armie since they were boys. He remembered the party boy, the laughingstock of the kingdom and how his father would admonish him in front of nobleman and advisors like he was a child. He watched that boy harden into a man after his father’s sudden death.   

Armie remembered how his cousin, Lord Ben, the Duke of Cambridge, tried to steal the throne that was rightfully his. It nearly tore their country into factions,  but Armie had held it together. There were times he had been ruthless, but only when he needed to be.

“Do you remember when Ben asked to marry Henry? A peace offering of sorts. Do you remember what you said?”

“I told him I’d rather marry him to a toad than to a man who’d make him miserable.”

“You are a kind man but a fierce king, Armie. Maybe you just need to show your prince the man behind the crown.”

Armie played those words over and over in his head. He thought about what he might say to Prince Harry at dinner.  He remembered that his first language was French, and even considered speaking to him in his native tongue.

“I hope you are feeling better, Prince Harry… Hal.” Henry had let Armie know that the prince went by that nickname. “What do you think of my kingdom, Hal? Your new home. I heard you like juniper trees.” Armie practiced what he would say to the prince, until His manservant Nick,  gave him a look as he dressed him for dinner. “Do you think I should talk to him in French?”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Your French is terrible.” Armie sighed. It was pretty bad. “You have flirted with people before, Armie. Even successfully at times. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve bedded someone.”

Armie started feeling flustered as Nick fixed his belt, batted his hands away and fixed his own sword to the belt. Nick was right. It hadn’t been that long since he went around whoring through the taverns, finding ample supple flesh between his legs begging to service the future king, but this was different. “This isn’t about sex… it’s about marriage. I’m going to spend my entire life with Harry. He’s going to have my children. I just can’t treat him like I treated all those peasants.” 

Nick raised an eyebrow while he fixed his  _ master’s  _ boot. Armie bit his tongue. “No offense.”

The moment was broken by a soft knock on the door and Armie turned just in time to see the sliver of Harry’s shadow pass through the entranceway, the door thudding closed behind him.

Nick stood, his shocked expression mirroring Armie’s own. Armie tried to cover his bare chest, feeling almost meek, given the sudden intrusion of the young prince in the one place he should not be before his wedding. “Prince Harry, please let me escort you back to your rooms,” said Nick as he tried to reach out to Harry, but  Harry scampered away from Nick’s gentle guiding, clutching his own robes and averting his eyes to the ground. “I am so sorry but I must speak to the king alone. Please. It is very important.”

Nick seemed hesitant at first but Armie soon noticed that the longer he lingered, the more anxious the young prince seemed to be getting.  Finally, Armie spoke for Hal’s benefit, “Please, wait outside the door, Nick. If you hear any loud sounds or yelling do not be afraid to interrupt.” It was unheard of that they would be alone in his room, Harry only in his dressing gown and Armie shirtless.

Hal seemed to flinch as the door slammed behind Nick,  and Armie yearned to close the distance, maybe offer some comfort to the frightened young man, but at that moment Armie felt like the last person who could calm the prince.  

“Harry… Hal” Armie tried, catching his eyes. Harry was shaking like a leaf, the heavy red fabric of his robes falling from one arm and revealing a thin, smooth shoulder. Armie had to stop himself from adjusting the robe, saving the prince’s modesty. “You should be getting dressed. Dinner is an hour away and you’re our Guest of Honor.”

At that, Hal pushed forward, almost falling into Armie’s chest as his long fingers grasped at Armie’s wrists. He had not forgotten his own state of undress but ignored it at the prince’s panicked expression. “Your Grace, I cannot marry you. Please forgive me. My indiscretions. Please send me home. I beg you.”

Armie looked down at the trembling fingers, the wet hazel eyes and quivering mouth. Prince Hal was a mess. He was a frightened boy barely standing before Armie, begging his forgiveness. Jason’s words rang through his head.

_ You are a kind man but a fierce king, Armie. Maybe you just need to show your prince the man behind the crown. _

But then something steeled inside Armie, Hal’s words stabbing at every one of his long-held fears. Armie knew he had been tricked. King Robert had sent him used goods, a sullied prince, not fit for marriage. Armie’s voice was ice as he took Hal by the elbow, tightening his grip. “What are these indiscretions, my prince?”

Hal’s eyes widened, trying to pull away, but Armie wasn’t having it. Hal could play the scared, little mouse if he wanted, and it was clearly a well-crafted act if it was able to fool his Bishop and his private physician. The prince might not be ill or with child,  but he must have a folly so grave that he feared Armie’s wrath.

“I cannot say,” Hal started,  but Armie shook him, finger pressing against fine fabric and thin bones.

“But you will.” He was using his  _ King _ voice, the one that brought both noble and peasant to heel. The boy froze at the command, either in fear or self-preservation or both. Armie towered over him, leaning down until his breath was hot against his ear. “If your tongue has ceased to work then just nod when I have hit the bulls-eye.” The prince nodded.

“Have you lain with a man as you should only lay with your husband?”

The prince shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes, but still, he said nothing.

“Have you lain with a woman as you should only lay with your husband?”

The boy looked up at him, confusion wrinkling his mouth as his cheeks heated. After a moment he shook his head.

“Have you let any man or woman touch your most intimate places, under your small clothes?”

The blush seemed to spread, cascading down his long, delicate neck. He frowned for a beat before nodding. At that moment, Armie’s heart sank and he let go of the prince’s elbow, taking a step back as he tried to quell his anger… jealousy. He had only been engaged to the prince for a year, and only distantly remembered him as King Robert’s younger brother. The anger was expected but the anguish he felt was not.

“Who was it? I will have them executed before word can spread any farther than this room. If it already hasn’t.” At that Prince Hal let out a gasp, his eyes panicked. Did he love this man? Armie’s jaw tightened.

“Your… your physician. This morning. He said… it was on your order. I…” Hal surged forward, not touching Armie but the king could feel the young prince’s fear radiating off him. It took a moment for the words to sink in and then Armie froze, a laugh escaping his lips before he could take it back. It seemed to worry the prince even further.

“No, you little fool. I meant, do you have a lover?” Hal went back to looking like a confused mouse and Armie rolled his eyes. “Enough of this.” Armie wrapped a long arm around the prince’s waist, pulling him forward until there was nothing between them but body heat.

The prince gasped, his voice shaking. “My king?” Armie let his fingers trail down his clothed back until he had a pert buttock in one hand and then he squeezed. Hal let out a broken moan. “Has anyone touched you here like this. Pressed themselves against you?” Armie thrust his hips until his arousal rubbed against the prince’s stomach. “Have you ever felt a man harden, sate his pleasure against your skin?”

The prince’s eyelids grew heavy as another small sound escaped his mouth. He licked, then bit his lower lip. Armie knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but the prince had come into his room in nothing but a dressing robe, not caring that Armie was shirtless, and then proceeded to touch him and beg him with those delicate fingers and soft lips. “Have you?”

The prince took a deep breath, finally meeting Armie’s eyes before shaking his head. It was Armie’s turn to be confused. What game was the young prince playing? “Have you even been kissed yet?” It was indulgent more than anything. Armie really didn’t mind if Hal had kissed another, but as he looked down at his wet, swollen mouth he had to know if anyone had tasted him before Armie could.

He was only mildly scandalized when the prince tried to pull away, shaking his head slowly before letting out a whimper and nodding. His soft brown curls tickled at the scruff of Armie’s cheek, his voice full of tearful apologies. “Calm yourself, prince. I never expected you to go twenty-two years without even a kiss. I wasn’t planning on marrying a saint.”

Hal laid his head against Armie’s chest, his wet cheek making gooseflesh as he settled his breathing. “I didn’t even want to kiss him. I was in his gardens… we were playing hide-n-seek and he caught me between a fence and a tree. I told Ansel he should not…” Hal started, but Armie interrupted.

“Prince Ansel of Norway?” Armie asked and Hal nodded. He tried to remember the second in line to the Norwegian throne, Henry’s stepson though there was no love lost. Tried to remember the gawky youth that sat beside his father on his brother’s coronation day.  Tried picturing him pressing Hal up against a tree, not listening as he pleaded for him to stop. “Well, I guess I’ll have to start a war with Norway for your honor.”

Hal letting a sharp laugh, wiping at his wet cheeks. He even had enough wits about him to do up his wayward sleeve, much to Armie’s displeasure. “You cannot be serious, my king?”

“My council will probably try to talk me out of it, and my brother will probably be a little irked since his own son is third in line for the Norwegian throne, but maybe if I kill off the first two, my nephew will be King. So it might be a win/win.”

At the mention of Armie’s brother, something in the prince’s face shifted as he let out a heavy breath. “Prince Henry warned my… girl servant, Esther. He told her that if I lie to you that you might…” the prince played his long fingers against his throat, stopping where shoulder met artery.

“That I would have you beheaded.” The prince nodded and Armie let out a snort, rolling his eyes. Henry always had a flair for the dramatic. “You’re a prince, Hal. I can no sooner take off your head than I could take off Prince Ansel’s for kissing you…” At that Armie paused, everything finally falling together. “Did you think I would behead you for kissing Prince Ansel?”

The prince paused for a beat, considering, biting at his bottom lip in a way that was starting to drive Armie mad. “No… well yes, but…” Armie shushed him, gathering the smaller man into his arms. Was he really that vicious? Is that how his own Prince Consort saw him?

_ You are a kind man but a fierce king, Armie. Maybe you just need to show your prince the man behind the crown. _

“I… please forgive me, my prince.” Armie knew he had to do something to prove to the prince, his future husband, that he was not the villain he played for his court. He had to humble himself.

Armie took a step back, bowing his head before falling to his knees. He fiddled with the sword at his belt, taking it out in one long motion before placing the blade and handle in either palm. Hal let out a soft gasp as Armie presented it to him.

“I have wounded you, my prince. Terrorized you with my body and my words. And I promise with a blood oath that I’ll never hurt you again.” Armie handed him the blade and the prince took it gingerly. “Take the tip of the sword and let it pierce my chest.” Armie guided the sword over his heart, quietly hissing as he felt it cut into his flesh.

He met the prince’s eyes, a shocked look playing across his beautiful features and something else hiding underneath as he held his gaze. His eyes were as fierce and cut deeper than any blade. “My heart’s blood seals this promise. Do you accept?”

Armie saw it again, something hidden behind the prince’s eyes. A secret? A lie? Armie blinked and then it was gone. Hal swallowed deep, his throat working the words out. “I do.”

The next day Armie woke early, begrudgingly opening his eyes. King Robert would be at the palace soon, his envoy coming a day later than his brother’s. He was not pleased about the reunion with his cousin. Mostly because it meant being mocked in French to his face. Also, they had to work out their situation in Spain.

Armie sighed, Spain was always a  _ situation _ waiting to happen but this time it meant that he and Robert had to work together. He should really be sending King Javier some flowers, he was half the reason Armie and Robert agreed to this marriage. Prince Hal a uniting force, a show of strength between two nations.

Armie played with the bandage Nick had placed over his heart.  _ So the mouse has claws _ . He seemed impressed. Prince Hal impressed most of his Royal Court. His beauty and piety had all the nobles buzzing.

“He reminds me of your mother.” Liz had whispered as they danced. Her approval meant more than any noble. He remembered the day he asked Liz to marry him. She had laughed, meekly taking her hand from his grasp. “You’re a foolish boy, Armie.” He’d been engaged to the Princess of Spain at the time but he’d been willing to give it all up for Lady Liz. She’d been right, of course. It had only been a foolish dream.

Armie was supposed to greet King Robert as he arrived but he by-passed the formality. His cousin would only complain that the Trumpeters weren’t lively enough and the stable hands weren’t clean enough.

Armie was getting married, he deserved a bit of reprieve so he sent Henry and Jason instead. “You’re the worst little brother in the world. I should have suffocated you in your crib.” Henry glared without heat.

He ate breakfast in his council room, waiting for Robert to get his rooms in order and meet with Prince Hal. He brought French tailors with him that would fit Hal in the most fashionable of wedding dresses. Armie hated French fashion, too many feathers and frills and bows but it’s what the prince wanted.

“It needs to be purple” was his only demand. Purple wasn’t fashionable at the moment but it meant something to Armie. The colors of the House of Hammer were white and blue, devotion and courage. The colors of the House of Pattinson were yellow and red, honor and strength. Uniting two great kingdoms under courage and strength sent a message, even if it was just the color of Hal’s silly, little wedding dress.

The doors to the council room opened, presenting him with King Robert an hour earlier than he expected. He sighed, putting down his cup and standing to greet his cousin. “Robert, I didn’t expect you so… early. I thought you would want to spend more time with your brother.”

“Don’t let my presence stop you from drinking. I know how strong your…. thirst can be.” Armie had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, biting his tongue as Nick took the plates away. “My brother didn’t want to see me this morning. So I sent in the tailors and his Ladies in Waiting. He probably partied a little too hard last night. I wasn’t really expecting him to be awake so early anyway.”

Armie raised an eyebrow at that, meeting Jason’s eyes briefly. From his other side, Lord Ben coughed, waving his hand at the map that they’d been scrutinizing all morning. “As you can see Spain and Portugal have been gaining ground on your southern borders…” Ben started, and Robert laughed, gesturing to his royal council, Duke of Brittany, Lord Daniel and Duke of Burgundy, Lord Charlie.

“That is only because they are filled with your English soldiers. Once the south of France is properly armed with French…” Lord Daniel began then paused as Jason knocked on the table, circling the tiny area with a wooden pawn.

“I ran a battalion in the South of France for years and our soldiers were never…” Lord Jason fumed quietly and Armie hoped he could keep his temper in check.

“I’m sorry but who are you again. Earl of Devon or whatever title His Grace saw fit to give you to please his brother.” Lord Charlie snared, flicking the pawn to the side of the map and replacing it with a knight.

“Gentleman, this is a meeting of two nations. Not a back alley brawl. Can we please keep this civil.” Robert admonished, turning his gaze towards Armie. “Not that you wouldn’t be familiar with the latter.”

Armie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his cousin rattled something off in French, probably more insults. “Robert is right. We must start working together. Spain and Portugal are getting brave with their advances because we are not acting as a united front. England and France, both our forces working together… by land and sea.”

Armie moved his chess piece, a King from the tip of England all the way to the blue space between the South of France and Spain, placing a Queen between his King and Robert’s Knight. He smiled. “A perfect marriage of my navel ships and your infantry.”

Robert twisted his mouth, considering. The solution was too simplistic for his liking, too obvious. “Didn’t your great-grandfather make a deal with the Pope that England would never invade a Catholic country by sea?” He raised an eyebrow Armie smirked.

“The House of Hammer has been at odds with the Church for two generations. Why stop such a wonderful tradition.” It was true. His grandfather’s first divorce caused the divide and at this point, the Catholic Church held no power over Armie.

“You might not care but France would riot if I went against Pope Luca.” Robert countered.

“Not if the Southern Coast of France belonged to England.” Armie started.

“I swear. You’re like a dog with a bone, Armie.” Robert sighed.

“Let me finish, Robert.” Armie banged on the table, taking a breath as his voice echoed, his own anger sounding too emotional to his ears. He had to stay calm. “Once I marry Hal he will be an English Prince Consort but he is still your brother. Therefore, deserves French land. You give him the Southern Coast and as his husband, it would only be my duty to protect his land with my ships.”

When Armie looked back at his cousin he expected to see some sort of agreement, maybe even acknowledgment of Armie’s brilliant tactic if he was feeling generous.  What he didn’t expect were three puzzled looks coming from Robert, Daniel, and Charlie. “What does  _ Hal  _ have to do with this?” Lord Charlie whispered, tentative, talking more to Robert than Armie.

Armie opened and closed his mouth, turning to Ben and then Jason. The tick of mistrust returning to his gut. Something was off. “Prince Harry? Does he have green eyes or hazel?”

Robert didn’t respond, eyes shifting as Daniel whispered something into his ear too low for Armie to hear.  _ Fuck  _ It was barely a whisper but it was enough for Armie.

“Get my brother. Send him to the prince’s rooms. Relay the message: The Prince must be dressed and ready to greet his brother and future husband. Now!” Armie yelled, facing his brother-in-law who did not hesitate as he left the room.

“I am not sure what you’re playing at, Armie but you will never demand anything from my brother like that again. He is still a Prince of France.” Robert glared but there was worry in his eyes and Armie was starting to think that they were both being played for fools.

The prince’s rooms were in disarray once they entered. Servants and tailors skittering about, picking up clothes and letters, dabbing at ink that had been spilled all over the carpet along with wine. A frustrated Henry was holding a crying Esther in one hand and grasping parchment in the other.

The prince was nowhere to be found. “Where is my brother? Esther, stop your whimpering. Where is Harry?”

Henry sighed, meeting his brother’s eyes and shaking his head. Armie felt a stab in his chest, right where the bandages were placed. “The prince ran away with his lover. Swore all his servants to an oath of secrecy. He wrote it all in this letter. Asked for his servants to not be punished.”

Robert surged forward, Armie’s anger… rage mirrored in his face. “You stupid girl.” He admonished, shaking her by the shoulder but Henry pushed him away.

“Leave her be. Your brother gave her no other choice. What was she supposed to do? Betray her Lord.” Robert turned his hand towards Henry but stopped before he could lay a finger on him. He was manic but not stupid.

He turned towards Armie. “Send out a search party. He could not have gotten far since yesterday. I don’t know how Lord Grimshaw could have ridden to England. I sent him east when I found out about the affair.”

Armie heard the words, knew what he should do. Act fast. Stop this embarrassment before it could spread to his court. But he stood frozen, his heartbeat pumping through his ears like he was under water. How could he have been so foolish?  “Affair, Robert? Did you send me a tainted prince? A whore?”

Robert snapped. “Did you expect a virgin, Armie? Harry couldn’t stand the idea of being married to you. Did you think he would keep his legs closed when he knew he was marrying a drunkard and a whore-monger?”

Armie worked his jaw, Robert’s words hitting him like punches to the gut. He tried to fit this picture his cousin was painting with the boy he had just met. Overlay the image of a spiteful prince that hated Armie with the young man that had trembled in his arms the night before. Had he been trying to give Armie a last chance to send him away before taking the matters into his own hands. Had Armie been too foolish to see it for the act it was. “You and Hal will pay for this.”

Robert snared, his mouth opening, probably with another insult before he paused. He looked around the room, searching for something. “Hal? You keep saying Hal as if…” He turned back to Esther. “Where is Hal, Esther?”

Armie wanted to interrupt, to demand his own questions be answered but he was already too confused to even know where to begin. So instead he followed Robert’s lead, watched as Esther let out a whimper as her eyes strayed to an unopened cedar chest. Armie beat Robert to it, in three steps. He threw the layers of dresses off the box, pulling open the heavy top.

Hal met his eyes, red and wet. He was shaking like a leaf, limbs tangled and bunched in the small confines. Armie let out a sigh, something in his gut unknotting. Here was his little liar. His husband-to-be, hiding like a cornered animal. Better here than miles away with his lover, he considered. Armie made a mental note to have this Lord Grimshaw found and executed.

Armie wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull Hal from the chest, shake him for his deceit and treachery. Or if he just wanted to close it back up and tell Robert to take his whore of a little brother back to France where he wouldn’t have to lay eyes on him again. “Prince Harry.”

Robert shouldered Armie out of the way, grabbing Hal by a thing shoulder and yanking him out of the box. “This your Grace” Robert spat out his title like poison, “is not Prince Harry.” Hal’s frightened eyes met Robert’s before he bowed, falling to his knees, dressing gowns falling open as he went. “Tell him who you are, Hal. Before you find yourself in graver trouble.”

Hal raised his head, curls obscuring his wet eyes as he took a quivering breath. He looked from one king to another. He met Armie’s eyes only briefly before hanging his head low, shoulders shaking. “My name is Timothee Hal du Chalamet, Marquis de Nimes.”

 


End file.
